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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27756175">i've looked at her, she is the only thing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/natehsewell/pseuds/natehsewell'>natehsewell</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, I have nothing to say... uhhh........., Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, knowin damn well ava could crush her skull like a grape.. ok braver than any us marine, the detective really put her head btwn those thighs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:21:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27756175</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/natehsewell/pseuds/natehsewell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Touching Ava is the pressure on her lungs and the thump-thump-thump of her heart and the slightest twitch of Ava’s lips when Winona wraps her arms around her shoulders, tangling her hair, pulling that severe bun free.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female Detective/Ava du Mortain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i've looked at her, she is the only thing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so, i.. uh......... have nothing to say, actually. i've never written smut before, so this is a New Experience! shoutout 2 ava du mortain for bringing it out ig.. um, anyways! yep! miss du mortain i'd like to get r*iled if ur free on thursday.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Touching Ava is no longer like putting her hand to an open flame. </p><p>At one point it had been like that. Every minor touch striking a match, drawing her attention with short bursts of heat and intensity. Ava’s hand brushing hers, light, accidental. The solid weight of her palm on Winona’s shoulder, her fingers long and sure of themselves as they held. Arms knocking into each other. Ava’s thighs locked around her hips after she’d knocked her to the mat again, demanding her focus, like Winona could think of anything other than all the slick, exposed skin she wasn’t allowed to touch. She can’t force herself to lay her palm on a hot stove, that animal instinct holding her back. It’ll hurt, it says. It’ll burn. </p><p>Each little moment had built the burning desire and the mounting want of her until Winona was left chasing relief herself, long after Ava had gone. But Ava’s in front of her now, those long, sure fingers solid on her hips as she draws Winona near, slow, unhurried. And touching her…</p><p>Touching her isn’t an open flame she doesn’t dare reach for anymore. It’s a fire building under her skin, settling low in her stomach and spreading from the inside out. Touching Ava is the pressure on her lungs and the <em> thump-thump-thump </em> of her heart and the slightest twitch of Ava’s lips when Winona wraps her arms around her shoulders, tangling her hair, pulling that severe bun free.</p><p>And god, she’s beautiful like that. Thick, golden waves cascading just over her shoulders, accentuating the wide cut of her jaw, the strong lines of her bone structure. Her eyes narrow, flinty jade, and the air stumbles in Winona’s throat, a stutter of need. </p><p>Winona leans up, capturing Ava’s lips with her own, inviting her in to take more. To kiss her fill. Ava’s left arm snakes fully around her waist, her other sinking into Winona’s hair, cupping her head. It starts slow. Easy to manage. Her head’s not spinning yet, but Ava kisses like she does everything: with a kind of single minded intensity that leaves her breathless, shaking, and it escalates.</p><p>Ava tilts her head back, tugging at her hair, and Winona groans—her mouth open, soft, and Ava wastes no time slipping her tongue in, drawing another aching moan from her. And it’s Ava’s taste in her mouth, consuming, heady, and Winona swears she can taste iron—morbidly, she wonders if Ava fed before she came here, if she drank her fill, if her throat burns now with a different kind of want. </p><p>She wonders, and kisses Ava even harder. Happily relents to every demand of her tongue stroking her own, her hands clenching and unclenching on her body. </p><p>Before she realizes it, her hips are knocking into the kitchen counter, and in one short motion, Ava picks her up and places her on it, leaving them at eye level. She’s grabbing at her thighs, thumbing the seam of her jeans, and it feels like a question. </p><p>Winona spreads her legs a little more, wrapping them heavily around Ava. "Hey there." Winona grins, tugging her closer, if that were possible. </p><p>Winona scrapes her nails lightly against Ava’s scalp, and she makes a noise low in her throat, almost a growl. "Winona." Her name, a guttural drag, and she feels it on her skin, down her spine, a rush of arousal pooling in her belly. Fuck, no one’s ever said her name like that. Like the constant denial to hear it—<em> detective, </em>distance measured in titles and a guise of professionalism—turned it into something else, something lovely. She wants to hear Ava whisper it, scream it, gasp it like a prayer. </p><p>"Mhmm?" She hums, dropping her lips to trail a path of kisses along Ava’s pale throat—flushed now, pretty and pink, and she is so fucking gorgeous, Winona can’t believe she gets to touch her, gets to be touched by her. </p><p>Winona can’t help the impulse to bite down on her pulse point, to suck a bruise there that will be gone in moments, leaves Ava groaning, her throat bared. Ava digs her fingers into the meat of her thighs, just on the verge of painful, and Winona’s hips rock in her steady hands, desperate for some kind of friction she won’t find on the flat countertop—and fuck, the rest of Bravo, they’re going to come back later, will they be able to tell?</p><p>"You are— I want you.” Ava says, ripping her from her place, one arm under her thighs and the other around her waist, and suddenly Winona’s in the air, effortlessly carried. Ava holds her like she weighs nothing, turning to the door, her hand on her ass, and Winona squeezes her thighs hard. "Do you—"</p><p>"Your room or mine?" Winona rasps, kissing Ava’s throat, her jaw, her cheek, anywhere she can reach. Ava shudders, readjusts her to hold her with one arm, and rips open the door to the kitchen with ease.</p><p>"Mine." She growls, and Winona is so glad, so glad that Bravo’s gone. That Farah and Morgan are on patrol and Nat— fuck, she didn’t ask where Nat was. Can she hear? Is she just— staying out of the way?</p><p>Winona worries over that for one whole second, and then Ava presses her against a wall, kisses her hard enough to steal the air from her lungs, and Winona thinks that Nat better stay away, because she’d let Ava take her right here, in the middle of the hallway, and they can just fucking wait—</p><p>Ava bites on her bottom lip, drawing a fresh bruise on her lips with her teeth, then soothes the sting away with her tongue. Pulls them both away from the wall, taking them further down the hall, and it’s all Winona can do to not grind her hips, to not stop her here, before they’ve even reached the bedroom.</p><p>"Fuck, I love you." Winona groans, wrapping herself around her tighter, pressing her face into Ava’s shoulder and inhaling deeply. She smells clean, like soap and fresh laundry and that sharp perfume she’s started wearing and underneath that, the scent of her, something she can only describe as<em> Ava, </em>warm skin and strength.</p><p>It feels like a minor eternity before Ava finally stops in front of her door, nearly slamming her into it to bring their lips together. Still in the damn hall, but she can’t quite bring herself to care. Ava licks into her mouth in an imitation of what’s to come, and Winona moans, hands shaking as she claws at Ava’s t-shirt, her hair.</p><p>Ava fumbles with the doorknob, and then they’re inside, and she’s kicking the door behind them, putting enough force behind it to slam with a harsh bang. She sets Winona down on shaky legs, giving her one, two more quick kisses before she pulls away.</p><p>"Get on the bed." She says—no, orders, gravelly and rough with want, and it sends a flush of arousal straight between Winona’s thighs. </p><p>She complies quickly, almost falling onto the plushness of the bed—and Winona doesn’t know why a woman that hardly sleeps needs a bed this big, this soft, but she’s not going to complain—while Ava turns and locks the door, the click of it sliding into place a heavy note in the air.</p><p>Her heart drums in her chest loud enough to hear, and she feels like it’ll burst from her rib cage when Ava turns, her eyes slanted dark with desire, looking all the more like a stalking predator as she takes slow, measured steps across the room. Her rolling gait, her broad shoulders, the hungry architecture of her body a marvel that Winona wants to spend hours exploring. </p><p>Ava stands in front of her, looking down with a look that Winona wants to call starving. Fierce with it, that wanting. A strong, square palm reaches out to caress Winona’s cheek, and she leans into it, staring up at Ava all the while.</p><p>It must be on her face, some kind of ache, because Ava leans down slowly, peppering softer kisses to her curving cheeks, her fluttering eyelashes, a tenderness that leaves Winona gasping.</p><p>"Do you want this?" Ava murmurs, her voice taking on a gentler note than before. An out, and Winona knows if she said no, Ava would let her go, no questions asked. But her skin is burning and she’s never wanted anything more, and she leans forward, catching Ava’s lips with her own.</p><p><em>"—fuck, </em>yeah, I do." She whines, but. <em>But. </em></p><p>"Do you?"</p><p>"Is that a question?" Ava rasps, and they crash together. Ava, pushing her onto the bed, raising up and settling on top of her, locking her thighs and grinding her hips, a low, throaty moan tearing from her as they kiss. </p><p>Winona’s scrambling for purchase, tugging on the tight material of Ava’s shirt, the cinch of her belt, and Ava is just the same. </p><p>Ava pulls away just enough to tear her shirt off her head, revealing a dark grey sports bra. Rippling muscle. The lines of her are severe, toned as a marble statue. When she raises up on her knees, Winona can’t help a groan, reaching for her instantly.</p><p>And she’s folding her fucking shirt.</p><p>If Winona wasn’t so frustrated, so ready to <em> move </em> <em>,</em> she’d find it almost funny that Ava’s taking the time to fold it, halfway through when Winona grabs it and tosses it into some unseen corner, impatient and unapologetic.</p><p>"Was that necessary?" Ava says, staring down at her with an arched brow.</p><p>Winona scoffs, grabbing her wrist and yanking her forward, settling her full weight on top of her. "You’re taking too long."</p><p>"So insolent." Ava catches her hand, pushing it back against the bed, a gentle but solid restraint, one that does not yield when Winona jerks against it. "And if I want to take my time with you?"</p><p>"I—"</p><p>Her other wrist, caught in Ava’s grasp, pulling her body taut beneath her, arms straight and out. Ava leans back, admiring the sight of her stretched out and caught, looking all the more like a cat with a mouse under its paw. </p><p>"If I want to take you apart slowly, until you’re <em> begging—"  </em>Winona arches, rocking her hips against Ava’s, and watches Ava sink her teeth into her bottom lip, a guttural noise bitten off.</p><p>Ava, solid weight, all built muscle and powerful thighs and strength beyond measure, grinds down slow, tightening her grip on Winona’s wrists. A soft gasp slips past her pink, bruisy mouth, and again Winona tries to meet her halfway, jerking her pelvis in search of friction, give. </p><p>Ava cedes nothing, pushing her waist back down with a sharp press of her thighs, and— fuck, that’s good. Ava, panting above her, rolling her body, stomach clenching into hard contours as she does, dragging this out till it hurts, the best kind of hurt. "Must you be so stubborn?" She snarls, working both of Winona’s wrists into one hand, the other catching her jaw in her fingers. </p><p>"It’s part of my charm," she manages, working a wry grin on her face even as her grip tightens. The one that Ava hates, the one that offers no give to any authority other than her own. "C’mon…"</p><p>Her kiss is unrelenting, unforgiving, all consuming, and held down it’s all Winona can do to hold onto the ride as Ava splits her mouth with her tongue, domineering and full and <em> god, please— </em></p><p>She rips away, the hand at Winona’s jaw flying to the collar of Winona’s shirt—plain white, crew neck, nothing to write home about, and Ava tears it loose, the <em> rip </em> of fabric filling the air.</p><p>"Fuck, Ava—" but whatever she wanted to say next cuts off at the midway, gives into a sharp whine as Ava spreads hard, open kisses on her throat, trailing the path of an artery down to her collarbone, nipping little bruises as she goes. </p><p>Ava’s hand curls over the center of her bra, poised to pull, and Winona snaps, "if you rip my bra, du Mortain..."</p><p>Ava pauses, fingers curling and uncurling, and then she sighs, releasing her grip on Winona’s wrists to lift her forward, flick her bra open with steady, confident fingers.</p><p>It comes loose, sliding off her shoulders, and Winona sits up to let Ava free it the rest of the way. Up and off and whatever urge to <em> fold laundry </em> that took her earlier must be gone, because Ava tosses it over her shoulder without so much as a glance back. </p><p>Then she freezes, pupils blown wide at all that newly exposed skin for her to explore. </p><p>Winona pants, fighting off the urge to cover her chest when Ava pushes her back, flat to the bed. "Beautiful," she whispers, half to herself, looming above her all sweet reverence and soft hands, trailing up Winona’s sides. Her hands on her ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts, only a shift from where Winona wants her. </p><p>She presses up, into Ava’s hands, a silent plead for more. </p><p>Ava smirks, the slightest tilt of her lips, but enough. Enough to know she knows <em> exactly </em> what she’s doing, and is content to let her beg for it, to wait her out. And Winona knows, she knows she can’t wait out a woman that has lived for 900 years.</p><p>"Ava—" she groans, using the newfound freedom of her hands to curl one around the bend of Ava’s wrist, draw her hand to her breast. And Ava lets her, cupping lightly. </p><p>"Is that what you want?" Ava murmurs, her thumb flicking over a stiffened nipple, circling the sensitive skin around it. Winona, nodding frantically, eyes shut. </p><p>"What do you want, Winona? Use your words." She orders, brokering no room for disagreement, and then leans down. Her hot mouth encases her other breast, and <em> fuck, </em> Winona gasps, her spine curving up almost against her will. </p><p>"You know what I want," Winona almost snarls, tangling her hands in Ava’s hair, keeping her near. </p><p>But Ava pulls away with a soft, almost obscenely wet sound, taking her hands with her. Saliva coats her well-kissed lips. "Do I?" She murmurs, peppering slick kisses to her breast, trailing upward. </p><p>
  <em> "Ava." </em>
</p><p>"Maybe I do." Ava chuckles as she draws up completely, and it feels like a cruel sound, a beautiful sound. Winona swallows hard, her hands settling on Ava’s waist, fiddling with the hem of her pants. There’s still too many layers between them, and she reaches for Ava’s belt buckle.</p><p>Ava catches her wrist, pressing it back to the bed. Then releases. "Why should I give it to you?"</p><p><em> Why should I— </em> god. Fucking tease. A pang of <em> something </em> rushes through Winona, hot as anger, hot as desire, and she doesn’t know if she wants to beg or curse or scream, but it sends a shockwave down her spine, straight to her center. Her hands are shaking and she’s flushed, wanting, needing, some kind of pressure, some kind of purchase—and there’s none to be found, trapped under Ava like this. But her pride.</p><p>Her fucking pride.</p><p>She waits.</p><p>Ava does not give, watching her with a calculating heat.</p><p>And it is too much. Burning, she finally whimpers: "please?" dragged out of her throat, on the edge of her teeth. </p><p>"Yes, Winona?" She prompts, a little smile on her face, almost smug. </p><p>She loves it, this. Watching her give in. Relent. Their little power plays are frustrating, Winona knows, when it’s her and Ava and the problem and the solution they can’t agree on, and Winona won’t give an inch, will gladly take a mile. Ava wants her <em> begging </em> and she— </p><p>Ava pinches her nipple lightly, circling the darkened skin there again, and Winona keens.</p><p>Fuck. <em> Fuck. </em></p><p>"Please, Ava—" She groans, her hands going back to their place at Ava’s hips, dragging along her belt, insistent and wanting. "I just want you to fucking— take this <em> off, </em> damn it."</p><p> Ava rolls up onto her knees, batting Winona’s hands away and in a few short, jerky moves her belt is loose, gone, and Winona’s sitting up, tugging at her pants, dragging them off her hips.</p><p>Her lips find the bow of her waist, tongue darting out to taste Ava’s skin, and she’s so <em> beautiful, </em>so warm. Winona resents it when Ava climbs off her, yanking the cargo pants off the rest of the way. A kick of her ankle and it’s off, revealing the powerful set of her thighs, legs like steel rods. </p><p>Winona drops her shaking hands to the zipper of her own jeans, struggling to loosen the button. Ava kneels on the bed again, reaching out to uncinch her jeans. She curls her fingers around the band and <em> yanks </em> and takes her underwear with it, and Winona’s left naked, open. Her thighs are stained slick with arousal, the scent of it heavy on the air.</p><p>Ava crawls over her, capturing her lips. Settles her knee right up against her core, and the newfound pressure, it’s— she grinds down on her thigh, moaning. It isn’t <em> enough </em> <em>, </em>but it’s more than before. </p><p>Winona rocks onto it, panting, aching. "Look at you, mea vita," Ava whispers against her lips, a throaty, tearing sound. One hand falls to Winona’s thigh, parting her legs gently. "You are so beautiful."</p><p>"So are you." Winona gasps, brings her hands to cup Ava’s jaw, her gyrating hips a gentle roll. </p><p>This kiss is slower, sweeter. Ava hums in her mouth, a light prying of her lips, and Winona follows motion for motion, act for act. One hand trails down Ava’s spine, tracing the landscape of her back with light fingertips. She slides one palm to Ava’s breast, kneading through the fabric of her bra. "Off?" She says, pleads, and Ava chuckles in response.</p><p>She pulls away enough to drag her bra up, over her head, flung again to some unknown corner with Winona’s own. Winona rises till they’re both upright, Ava in her lap, trailing open-mouthed kisses across the valley of her chest. One palm massages her breast, her mouth slotting against the other, capturing a rosy-hued nipple between her lips, and Ava moans, curling her fingers through Winona’s thick locks.</p><p><em> " Ah—" </em> Ava gasps, and <em> fuck </em> <em>,</em> the sound hits her in the gut, sends a rush of heat through her. Winona moans, switching her attention to her other breast, leaving a smear of wet across Ava’s pale skin. </p><p>"I wanna taste you," Winona rasps, voice hoarse and lined with want, drawing back to meet Ava’s gaze, only a thin ring of jade against the obsidian of her pupils.</p><p>Ava hesitates, her fingertips tracing a line from her cheek to her jaw. "That isn’t n—"</p><p>"Please let me? I’ll do whatever you want," she says softly, gently, another kiss to Ava’s neck, "whatever you say— <em> please." </em></p><p>"Whatever I say?" Her fingers curl around Winona’s jaw, tilting her head backward enough to keep her eyes locked, her throat bared. Ava offers her a light kiss, almost chaste, even as Winona locks her hands around the curve of Ava’s thighs, rising upward slowly.</p><p>"Mhmm."</p><p>"You shouldn’t make promises you cannot keep." Ava chides, tracing Winona’s jaw with her lips. "But I suppose..." she drags her teeth, a threat and a promise both, sucking a purple mark onto her neck. "If that is what you want…"</p><p>Winona shudders, her eyes sliding shut. Ava’s thumb trails down her throat, settling at the jump of her pulse.</p><p>"Then I would be remiss to deny you."</p><p>In just a few short motions, their positions are reversed, Ava with her back to the headboard and Winona kneeling before her, wide-eyed and soft-mouthed. </p><p>God. </p><p>Winona pauses a moment to take in the sight of her, hair askew and cheeks flushed, that stained pink spreading down her neck, over her chest. Ava, watching her like she’s everything. Ava, body carved like marble, like steel, splayed out in front of her. All that time, <em> aching </em> for her, close but never touching, a no man’s land that seemed unbreachable at the time. </p><p>She loves her. Her chest swells up with it, all that feeling, like she’s overflowing, like it’ll pour out of her in rose petals and wine. Winona kneels back, taking one of Ava’s calves in hand, leaning down to trace her lips across the corded lines there. Ava exhales, shaky and low, and Winona watches her carefully, for a sign that she wants this to stop.</p><p>She’s relaxed, almost <em> languid, </em>her head tilting back, just watching. And the look in her eye, dark enough to drown in. Winona’s distinctly reminded, again, of lions and prey and teeth, and she shudders. </p><p>It’s intense enough she has to look away, blushing hot. When she comes to the soft inner skin of her thigh, Ava places her palm to the back of her skull, working her fingers under her sheet of dark hair. Not tugging, not yet. Just holding. A careful assertion of control, and Winona leans her head into it, encouraging the touch. </p><p>She’s <em> wet </em> <em>,</em> a circle arousal darkening the gray fabric, the scent heady and intoxicating. Winona presses her head between Ava’s thighs, suddenly taut as a pulled bow, and kisses her clothed heat. </p><p>Ava exhales, her stomach clenching. Winona rolls her eyes up, brown on green, as she mouths at the soaked barrier. She runs the flat of her tongue against it, keeping eye contact all the while.</p><p>"Winona—" Ava hisses, her grip tangling in strands of dark hair. </p><p>Winona hums in response, hooking her finger into the band of Ava’s underwear, the scrap of cloth the last thing separating them. </p><p>She tugs lightly, and Ava lifts her hips, letting her pull them off quickly, eagerly. </p><p>And she <em> is </em> eager. Curls one of Ava’s heavy thighs over her shoulder, spreading her open, and <em> god, </em>she’s wet. Winona wastes no time burying her mouth there, running her tongue along the dripping heat of her. She starts gently, slick coating her mouth, and she whimpers, </p><p>The reaction is almost instant. Ava’s grip on her hair tightens almost painfully, and her thighs clamp around her head. Winona throws one arm over the bow of Ava’s hips, her other hand massaging one of Ava’s thighs, encouraging her to relax.</p><p>Ava does, after a moment, sinking into the bed with a soft sigh as Winona licks a few light, teasing strokes along her folds. Winona watches her eyes slide shut, one arm curling behind her head, and the sight of it is thrilling, <em> beautiful.  </em></p><p>She laps at her wetness, humming at the taste that bursts across her tongue. Ava shivers, wrapping Winona’s hair into a fist. </p><p>"Good girl," she husks, and <em> fuck— </em>the praise makes her moan, tighten her hold on Ava’s thigh and trace her clit, light strokes and teasing brushes. Winona barely fights back the urge to sink her fingers between her own legs, to chase her own relief for the knot of desire in her, tight enough to hurt. When she looks up again, Ava is watching, mouth open, a hint of fang flashing in the low light. </p><p>Not for the first time, she remembers <em> vampire sensitivity, </em> how each touch, each sound, each taste is on a level Winona can only imagine. Does the same hold true here? </p><p>She picks up speed, and Ava exhales relief. Reaches out, searching for her hand, and Winona offers it willingly, weaving their fingers together. Ava’s other hand catches the headboard, squeezing as she licks her, slow, tortuously slow. Fucks her with her tongue like she has forever, and Ava is not <em> loud, </em> but she gasps and groans and tosses her head back, sweat clinging to her brow, and then, then: "Winona, <em> please," </em>  it’s everything, everything, but not quite <em> enough. </em></p><p>Ava catches a whimper in her teeth, shuddering, shaking. And it’s obvious it takes all of her will to not squeeze her thighs around Winona’s head, the headboard straining under her grip. Winona’s tongue circles her clit. Flicks against it. An alternating cycle of slow and fast, when she’s so close it shines—Ava grinds down on her mouth, smearing her arousal across her lips. </p><p>Then she drags her mouth away, grinning a kiss against her inner thigh. Ava snarls her name, tugging on her hair.</p><p>"Don’t you <em> dare </em>."</p><p>"Or what?" Winona taunts, playing with fire, a shivery part of her thrilled by the warning glare Ava wears. </p><p>"I swear—"</p><p>Ava’s voice strangles off in a gasp, her hips jolting off the bed as Winona wraps her lips around her clit and <em> sucks </em> <em>,</em> repeating the motions that leave Ava shaking and clawing holes in the sheets, moans throaty and low, torn from her by a fast tongue, lapping at her until she’s half arched off the bed. Ava chokes out a curse, eyes squeezing shut and fangs on full display. </p><p>Once, twice, her hips stutter, her thighs bracing against Winona’s head in a vice, and <em> crack! </em> Ava’s elbow rends a nasty split in the headboard, making Winona jolt, but the damage goes unnoticed by Ava as she chases the cliff’s edge. Winona lets her ride, lets her chase her own friction against her mouth and then—</p><p>She shatters, a cry wrenched from her, babbling nonsense in a language Winona doesn’t understand as her abdomen clenches, thighs trembling violently and it’s <em> beautiful, </em>she’s beautiful. She goes taut, struck as a livewire, and then she slumps, breathing hard and fast.</p><p>Winona pulls away, settling on her knees, watching her ride out the aftershocks with a shaky sort of awe. Ava opens her eyes, relaxed, hazier than Winona has ever seen her, and she makes a point of licking her slick lips clean, grinning wide.</p><p>Ava wraps an ironclad hand around her upper arm, and yanks her forward, chest to chest. Her skin is hot, slick with sweat, and Winona nuzzles happily against her as Ava wraps both hands around her face. </p><p>"You are…" Ava rasps, voice rough, and it’s <em> loving, </em> her gaze. The sleepy, trusting kind of love, pressed like petals in the pages of a book. It leaves Winona breathless, heart stumbling in her chest, warmth blooming up in her rib cage.</p><p>"Insufferable?"</p><p>Ava laughs, a short, soft sound as she shakes her head. Kisses her deeply, moaning at the taste of herself in Winona’s mouth. Her hands trail up Winona’s sides, fingernails dragging lightly, sending shivers down her spine.</p><p>"You are not finished." She hums, flipping them over suddenly. Winona gasps, her head hitting the pillows with a soft <em> oof </em>. </p><p>"I haven’t had my turn yet."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hmu on tumblr @dumortainava &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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